


Hours

by bugmadoo



Series: G*llavich Week 2015 [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 21:26:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4153536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugmadoo/pseuds/bugmadoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian and Mickey make out</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Written for G*llavich Week 2015 Day 4: Jukebox
> 
> Inspired by [Hours](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0Z5IyYu7so) by FKA twigs

The sun was hanging low in the sky, shining through the open windows and forcing the dust twirling in the air out of hiding. It had been one of the first warm days of the year where the days always cooled down by a surprising amount once the sun was gone. They were on the couch, Ian half lying on top of Mickey, his head resting on Mickey’s chest, both watching some shitty network show flicker across their TV without paying much attention to it. Maybe he was biased but listening to Mickey’s heartbeat and running his thumb over Mickey’s knuckles was far more interesting where Ian was concerned.

After another five minutes of incredibly mundane dialogue coming from the TV’s speakers, Ian stopped the movements of his fingers from where their hands where hanging off the couch and moved them, lightly brushing his fingers over Mickey’s hand and up his arm. The goosebumps on Mickey’s skin made Ian smile and maybe Ian just imagined it but he could swear he heard Mickey’s heart skip a beat.

Ian decided to throw any pretense of watching TV out of the window and pulled up, his face hovering over Mickey’s. He stayed like this, taking a minute to properly look at Mickey. Ian didn’t think he could never in a million years forget how Mickey looked like but he still liked to take in the details properly from time to time although Mickey wasn’t always comfortable with it. Ian usually did it when Mickey was sleeping and just watched him. Watched how his pink lips twitched in his dreams sometimes, how his eyebrows were the same pitch black color as his hair and how Mickey too had stray freckles on his skin that you only detect if you were close enough. Ian memorized the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the shape of his nose and the feeling of Mickey’s stubble on his skin.

Mickey started squirming under the redhead’s scrutiny and Ian almost apologized if it wasn’t for the blush creeping up on his cheeks. As always, Ian left Mickey’s eyes for last since he learned early on that he should always leave the best for last. The shade of blue was unlike Ian had ever seen before and he was pretty sure he would never find it in one of those folders with billions of color shades. Looking into Mickey’s eyes was like lying on the grass on a summer day when the blue of the sky completely surrounded him and swallowed him whole.

When Mickey pulled up his eyebrows silently asking Ian what the hell he was doing, Ian finally leaned down, their lips touching softly. Mickey’s lips felt feather-light and firm at the same time, sucking and licking and tongues brushing against each other.

As they were kissing it occurred to Ian that they had never really done this – make out. Not in the traditional sense anyway. The times they actually made out usually ended in sex and Ian asked himself if it still counted as making out or if it was just plain foreplay. Or was making out was just one form of foreplay? Either way, they’d never done one of those traditional sloppy and messy teenager make out sessions. There may not be much traditional about their relationship, but Ian still thought that this was a tradition they maybe should pick up.

Ian could feel Mickey harden against his hip, rutting slightly against him, searching for a little relief against his cock. Ian groaned, the feeling of Mickey wanting him streaming into his blood, but he tried to refrain from doing the same. If he started he didn’t know if he could stop so instead he concentrated on the warm pair of lips against his, Mickey’s hands on his ass and his neck, his world completely closing in on Mickey.

The way their lips moved against each other was familiar and yet exiting, something more primal taking over them every time, turning the touch of their lips into their bodies’ most important need. More important than a beating heart, more important than food or water, more important than breathing.

“I could kiss you for hours, Mick,” Ian whispered, their foreheads touching and his thumb drawing circles on Mickey’s cheek.

Ian had that warm and soft look in his eyes as he spoke, that look that Mickey could never look at for too long because it made his stomach flutter, and he did the only thing he could and kissed Ian, deepening their kiss in comparison to before, tongues diving in more firmly. Mickey pulled on Ian’s hair, trying to draw him closer, closer, closer and when their front teeth brushed against each other neither of them complained.

Mickey moaned as he started moving his hips against Ian again, seeking relief for his straining cock. A bubble of heat was gathering inside of him, drawing from all the cells of his body, tingling his toes and arching his back.

“Get the stuff,” Mickey said, his voice barely above a whisper, before he went back to latch his lips onto Ian’s.

The redhead’s only response was humming lowly and moving his lips to Mickey’s jaw, sucking loud kissed into his skin. He kept going until he reached the spot below Mickey’s ear that never failed to drive him crazy. This time was no different and Ian had Mickey groaning and moaning in no time, the sounds making his cock twitch in his pants.

“Lube, Ian,” Mickey said, trying his best to sound urgent but failing, his voice too breathless to sounds anything but needy.

“Just wanna make out with you,” Ian replied, equally out of breath.

“Want you to fuck me, though.”

“Later.”

“Now.”

Ian brought his head back up from Mickey’s shoulder and leaned their foreheads against each other, just looking at Mickey for a few moments.

“I wanna kiss you and make out with you like a traditional teenager, Mick. We can always fuck later.”

Mickey was about to remark that while Ian may still be a teenager, Mickey wasn’t and therefore he really couldn’t use that argument but Ian cut him off with a kiss. How Ian managed to make any coherent thought leave Mickey’s brain would always be a mystery to him, but Mickey really couldn’t bring himself to object. The feeling that Ian managed to spark in him came from deep inside of his body and was simply too good to resist.

Mickey’s hands left their place gripping red hair and roamed over Ian’s body, feeling the muscles tensing and relaxing under the skin as Mickey dipped his tongue into Ian’s mouth, relishing the taste. He spread his legs a little further so Ian could lie between them a little more comfortably before Mickey wrapped his legs around him, needing Ian closer.  He was rutting against Ian again, moving his hips from side to side until their cocks were right next to each other, only divided by four layers of clothing, the contact still enough to send a jolt through Mickey. This time Ian didn’t stop him but moved to kiss the side of Mickey’s throat again, and Mickey knew he was sucking up hickeys on his skin. He moaned and tightened his grip on Ian, a silent plea to _please don’t stop_.

Ian reemerged when he seemed satisfied with the coloring of Mickey’s neck and immediately went back to attaching their lips together. Ian moaned particularly loud as they reconnected and Mickey decided right there that Ian’s moans will be the best sound to ever reach his ears. Ian sucked on Mickey’s bottom lip before gently biting it and Mickey moaned loudly, his nerve endings feeling like they were being electrocuted and set on fire at the same time. Ian swept his tongue across the same patch of skin and Mickey felt the heat of it shoot down into his chest.

This time Mickey moved Ian’s head so he could suck on Ian’s neck, kissing every freckle he could reach this way and leaving hickeys to cover that would cover the little dots later. The angle grew uncomfortable after a while, however, so Ian turned his head again, facing Mickey. He leaned in slowly and when their lips were only an inch apart, he change his direction and kissed Mickey’s upper lip. Ian didn’t leave it at that but dragged his mouth upwards over Mickey’s cheek, covering the skin in kisses on his way, until he reached the corner of Mickey’s eyes.

The soft pecks caused Mickey to blush again, the gentleness overwhelming and making his stomach do a dozen summersaults. Ian repeated the same thing on the other side of Mickey’s face, covering even more skin with gentle kisses and sweet caresses. Mickey asked himself if it had felt as good for Ian that one time he had dared Mickey to kiss every single one of his freckles. He hoped so.

Ian placed one last kiss on Mickey’s forehead and then his lips before he scooted back down again, crossing his arms on Mickey’s chest and resting his chin on top, looking at Mickey intently.

“You’re not seriously going through with this?” Mickey complained.

“Watch me,” Ian replied, barely suppressing a laugh.

“I could just get up and jerk off, you know.”

“You could … but then I wouldn’t let you ride my face later.” There was that grin on Ian’s face again, the one that was brighter than the sun and which Mickey was completely powerless against.

Mickey threw his head back and groaned. “ _Fuck_ , you’re the world’s worst fucking tease.”

“And you love it,” Ian replied, a knowing smile on his face.

Mickey just grumbled in response and turned his head back towards the TV, trying to ignore Ian’s eyes on him and the fact that he almost just came in his pants like a fucking teenager. He tried to concentrate on the show playing on their TV but he couldn’t for the life of him remember if it even was the same one as before – not that he particularly cared. Most of his energy was focused on willing his wood to go away and as he slowly came back down from the high Ian always brought him to, he was surprised to find that although he didn’t come he still felt some kind of afterglow seeping through his body that left him feeling tingly and sated.

He looked at his boyfriend lying on his chest, face turned to the TV, body completely relaxed and a small blush on his face and Mickey thought that maybe making out was something that they actually, definitely, really should do more often.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [Fran](henrywintering.tumblr.com) for yelling at me to pick this song and as always thanks to [Vera](archiveofourown.org/users/veras) for betaing!
> 
> I originally wanted to make this much longer let them /make out/ make out but ... I ran out of time I'm so sorry. Maybe one day.
> 
>  
> 
> [caputdraconis.tumblr.com](caputdraconis.tumblr.com)


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